


(Not) So easy to break

by Elisexyz



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Beating, Blood, Bromance, Gen, Hurt Harvey, Hurt!Harvey, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Worried!Mike, off-screen violence, worried Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 01:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “Holy shit.”“Calm down.”“What the hell happened to you?!”Featuring Harvey bleeding all over Mike's couch and Mike trying to be an adult about the whole situation.(For an anon on Tumblr who wanted beaten-up!Harvey and worried!Mike)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon [on my tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com) who requested: 
>
>> _*whispering* would u write Harvey beaten up by some opponent in court for some reason and Mike worrying about him when he sees him bleeding and stuff? Please?_
> 
> But. Let's be honest. Sooner or later, I probably would have thrown some hurt!Harvey at you guys once again anyway. Set before 2x01 and the season 1 finale: Jessica doesn't know about their secret yet.  
> 

“Holy _shit_.”

“Calm down.”

“What the hell happened to you?!”

Mike heard him when he said to ‘calm down’, but how exactly was he supposed to _not_ react like that when Harvey was leaning on his door, beaten and bloody like a twelve-year-old who had just been picked on by the bullies of the school?

“Someone doesn’t want me in court tomorrow.” Harvey shrugged. Or _attempted_ to shrug, because as soon as he tried to move his right arm his face twisted in pain and his left hand quickly grabbed the sore arm, as if it could have helped.

Mike moved to let him in and, _shit_ , Harvey was limping and his split lip looked even _more_ split now that he was looking at it more closely and- _fuck_ , was that _blood_ in the back of Harvey’s head?

“You need to sit down.” Mike mumbled, even if he was pretty sure that _he_ would have needed to sit as well. Jesus, Harvey looked awful.

Mike gripped Harvey’s left arm to help him towards the couch. Predictably, Harvey wasn’t pleased by the gesture, as proven by the glare he shot at him, but he didn’t make any actual attempt to get free, which spoke volumes about how hurt he was and how much he needed that help.

“Alright, we’re going to the hospital.” Mike stated. Because someone needed to keep things under control, and it wouldn’t have been fair to expect Harvey to do it.

“I’m fine. I just need a First Aid kit.” Harvey protested.

Mike tried to count to ten before answering, like Grammy had taught him. He lost it at three.

“Your head is bleeding!” He screamed. “Your- _everything_ is bleeding! So we either call a cab and go to the hospital, or I call an ambulance and they _take_ you to the fucking hospital.”

“Calm down.” Harvey replied, raising his eyebrow. Mike would have probably felt the need to punch him, hadn’t he been so horrified at the sight of what someone else had done to him. That proof that he was human just like the rest of them, in spite of what he wanted to show, was unsettling.

“I’ll _calm down_ ,” Mike replied through his teeth. “when someone will assure me that you aren’t going to die on my couch.”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “ _I_ am assuring you.”

“Oh, sorry, my mistake. I meant someone _who actually knows what the hell they are talking about_.”

Harvey smirked slightly, the way he did when he was pleased with Mike’s snarky attitude but he tried to hide it. Well, at least one of them was having fun. Mike was terrified that Harvey would pass out and die any moment.

“I have to be in court tomorrow.” Harvey explained, his expression serious now. “If I go to the hospital, they may want to keep me for controls and other bullshit, but if those bastards are willing to do this to me it means we have them, which means that I _can’t_ miss court.”

“You can sign a paper and get out against medical advice.” Mike pointed out. “ _Or_ I could go to court alone.”

Mike knew the minute he suggested it that Harvey would not allow him, but it was worth a try. Harvey’s wide eyes and the screamed “No goddamn way!”, though, were a little more eager than he had expected. He felt a little offended.

“Why not?” He asked, defensively. “I can handle it.”

“Oh, I know you can, and then _they_ are not going to be pleased with you, smartass.”

… _Oh_. Yeah, Mike hadn’t thought about that.

“Alright.” He muttered, at loss of words. Harvey hadn’t quite admitted that he didn’t want him to get hurt, but he might have as well said it. “So, which one is it? Cab or ambulance?”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Neither.”

“Ambulance then.” Mike replied nonchalantly.

“ _Mike_.” Harvey warned, but he really wasn’t scary beaten up as he was.

They had already lost enough time, Mike wanted him to be checked out _now_. He knew Harvey was tough, but he was _bleeding_ , and maybe it was only scratches and bruises, but there was the possibility that there was something wrong that they couldn’t notice right away, and Mike wasn’t willing to take any chances.

He didn’t want to think about letting Harvey have it his way only to find out a week or two from now that he had to rush to the hospital because there was some internal damage – except he _was_ thinking about it, and he had enough experience with hospitals and funerals for it to feel real.

“Oh, come on, you are not going to cry on me, are you?” Harvey asked, in his best annoyed and vaguely disgusted tone. “ _Alright_. I’ll take a cab, alright? But if they don’t let me out, _you_ will postpone court and you will stay at the hospital with me so that you can get bored with me and not have a chance to screw up the case.”

Mike felt his lips twisting into a smile.

“And I swear that if you start crying I’ll throw myself out of the window.” Harvey added.

“Deal.” Mike grinned, pulling out his phone.

 

“Mmh, you got a couple of punches in, didn’t you?” Mike commented.

He was helping Harvey with the stairs – he had _no idea_ how he had managed to come all the way up to his apartment on his own – and he had noticed his bruised knuckles. There was silence and Harvey clearly wasn’t pleased with his current situation, so Mike figured that joking would help.

“I wish I could say that they look worse than me, but…” Harvey replied, snorting. “In my defence, they were four against one.”

“You could have called me instead of taking the stairs on your own.” Mike pointed out. He knew that Harvey was stubborn, but that was no excuse for not asking for help when he really needed it. And being almost beaten to death by four guys surely counted as ‘really needing it’.

“They took my phone and wallet.” Harvey explained, and he sounded pretty pissed. For a second, Mike was tempted to ask how much money he had been carrying with him, just out of curiosity and to keep the conversation going, but he decided against it, because it really was none of his business.

“So at the hospital I need you to call Donna and tell her to empty my credit cards.” Harvey added.

“If she asks…?” Mike prompted, hoping that Harvey wouldn’t ask him to lie, because he wasn’t eager to be subjected to her wrath once she would find out what had happened.

“She _will_ ask.” Harvey corrected. “And you can tell her the truth, she’ll find out anyway.”

Mike nodded, and before he could find anything else to say, an old woman living on the second floor opened the door to her apartment. As soon as she spotted them, her eyes widened in worry. She knew Mike: he had helped her carrying her groceries more than once, and she had invited him in for a tea to thank him a couple of times. She was a nice old lady, as much as her obsession over World War II and firearms in general was a little weird.

“Michael.” She called, taking a couple of steps to get closer to them. “What happened to this young man here? Are you alright, dear?”

The last question was addressed to Harvey. Mike could literally feel his need to get away from the unwanted attention.

“I’m fine, ma’am, thank you.” He replied, politely. Mike glanced at the back of his head, that was still bleeding. Mike had taken a towel to tampon the cut, but Harvey’s right arm was too sore to apply pressure and his left arm was wrapped around Mike’s shoulders for support. As for Mike, his right arm was wrapped around Harvey’s hips, and he couldn’t reach Harvey with his left hand. So, the wound had to wait, but it still made Mike extremely anxious to see him bleeding and not doing anything about it.

He should have taken some time to find a way to bandage the cut, but they couldn’t go back to his apartment right now, both because the cab was on its way and it would have been too big of an effort anyway.

“Poor fella, there are so many bad people in this world.” The woman said, smiling sympathetically at Harvey. “They wanted your money, didn’t they? So many criminals, with their guns and-”

“Mrs. Tipton.” Mike interrupted, with the most genuine smile he managed to come up with. “I’m sorry, but we have to go to the hospital to get him checked out.”

“Oh, sure, I understand.” She nodded, and Mike wasn’t looking at Harvey, but he was willing to bet that he was emanating thankfulness. “Take care, boys.” She said.

“You too.” Mike replied, and started moving again. “Just two floors left.” He announced to Harvey, who nodded briefly.

They stayed in silence the rest of the way, Mike continuously glancing at Harvey, who didn’t seem to notice, busy as he was trying not to trip on the stairs. Mike’s muscles were burning and protesting because of the prolonged effort, but he ignored the pain, since there was no alternative and he didn’t have enough money to bribe the taxi driver and make him help. In retrospect, he should have called an ambulance in spite of Harvey’s opinion about it, at least the paramedics would have been the ones carrying Harvey.

When they got out of the building, the cab wasn’t there yet, and Mike cursed under his breath.

“Alright, let’s sit.” Mike said, helping Harvey settle on the stairs in front of the building. He looked pale, and Mike quickly pressed the towel he had brought against the back of his head. All that blood wasn’t reassuring, but he tried to remind himself that head injuries often looked worse than they actually were.

Before Mike could ask how he was holding up though, Harvey suddenly bent forward and threw up. Mike was quick to grab him so that he wouldn’t fall, and he stared at him with horrified eyes, because _that_ was a sign of a concussion. Shit, he should have called an ambulance, what was he thinking?

“Shit.” Harvey mumbled, straightening up again, his voice thin and hoarse.

“Are you feeling dizzy?” Mike asked. His right hand was still pressing the towel against Harvey’s head, while his left hand was resting on Harvey’s left arm.

“A little.” Harvey confessed.

“We can still call an ambulance.” Mike reminded him. “We _should_ call an ambulance.”

“I probably just have a concussion, I’m not dying.” Harvey replied. He swallowed, and Mike would have bet his ass he was still feeling nauseous. “You already called the cab, and it’s just a ten minutes’ ride for the hospital. It’s fine.”

In the end, they did make it just fine using the cab. Harvey looked like he was about to throw up again after a couple of curves, but he managed to not make a mess, thankfully. At the hospital, Mike made Harvey sit in the waiting room, a couple of seats away from a kid screaming and crying because his ears hurt. Harvey, pressing the towel against his wound, glared at him, probably trying to kill him with his power of will. It didn’t work: as a matter of fact, the kid wasn’t even looking at him.

Mike told a nurse what had happened, he gave Harvey’s name and he asked for something to use in case Harvey had to throw up again. He was given a couple of bags and the nurse assured that they would be with them shortly.

“They’ll make us wait all night.” Harvey mumbled, as Mike sat next to him.

“You are bleeding. They won’t.” Mike replied.

In the end, it took the nurses twelve minutes to get to them, and in that time Harvey managed to throw up twice. A little girl looked at them with a disgusted face, while an old man smiled sympathetically at Mike, who didn’t really know how to react.

When a nurse finally announced that the doctor was waiting for “Mr. Specter”, Mike automatically stood up to follow him, but the nurse said that he had to wait there. Harvey glanced at him and nodded, so Mike sat again, feeling his cheeks burning.

“My credit cards.” Harvey reminded him. Yeah, right, Mike had already forgotten about Harvey’s request to call Donna. Surely later the fact that the guy with the concussion had been able to remember while he hadn’t would have been good material for jokes.

Mike could have argued that his emotional state seemed to be way worse than Harvey’s, who in spite of it all had looked awfully calm, while Mike had managed to sound like a stereotypical hysterical wife. Still, knowing Harvey, being emotional would have just been another thing to tease Mike for.

Bottom-line: he wasn’t winning that argument.

He dialled Donna’s number by heart, glancing at the direction where Harvey had been taken away by the nurse.

“ _Hello?”_

Shit, that wasn’t Donna. It was a female voice, but it sounded nothing like Donna. Mike took the phone away from his ear and he looked at the screen, realizing that he had got the second last digit wrong. Shit.

“I am so sorry, ma’am, I dialled the wrong the number.” He apologized.

“ _Be more careful at this hour of the night the next time_.” She replied, pretty angrily, then she hung up. Well, he couldn’t really blame her: it was way too late to be woken up by a stranger on the phone.

He decided to select the number from his contact list, just to be safe.

“ _Mike, what are you calling me this late for?”_ Donna immediately asked. Mike couldn’t decide if she was annoyed or concerned. Probably a little bit of both.

“I’m sorry, Harvey asked me to call.”

Well, immediately saying it was Harvey’s fault was the safest choice. Mike was pretty sure that this way she would stop planning his homicide, in case she was mad.

“ _What happened?”_ She asked. Less annoyed, more concerned.

“Ehm…” Mike hesitated. He wasn’t too eager to recall what had just happened. He hoped Donna wouldn’t ask for the details, because he really wasn’t feeling up to describing how bad Harvey had looked when he had appeared on his doorstep. “He was beaten up pretty badly by four guys who don’t want him in court tomorrow.”

“ _What?!”_ She asked. She was pretty close to yelling. “ _Is he okay? Where are you?”_

“We are at the hospital, they are checking him out as we speak. And he was good enough that he was trying to convince me to just let him use a First Aid kit.” Well, it wasn’t a lie. There was no need to pour all his fear and horror on her. “Listen, they stole his wallet and cell, so he asked me to call you to see if you could empty his credit cards before they use them.”

Donna paused before answering. “ _On it_.” She assured. “ _Let me know as soon as you know anything_.”

She hung up before Mike had a chance to answer. Well, no wonder she and Harvey had worked together for all those years.

 

When a doctor finally approached him, Mike was starting to wonder if he would go mad, forced to wait in there. A couple of people had even begun to eye him suspiciously when he had started standing up, walking up and down along a six-feet-long line a couple of times only to sit down again.

“Is he okay?” He immediately asked.

“You can see him if you come with me.” She replied, smiling slightly, which made Mike’s worry reduce a little. With his Grammy and everything he was pretty used to dealing with doctors and nurses, and they didn’t smile when there were even _slightly_ bad news. Harvey was okay.

“’Told you I need to go.” Harvey was slurring when Mike came into the room. He was sitting on a bed, a bandage on his head, and a cast on his arm.

“He has a broken wrist, a small fracture in his arm, various cuts, even more bruises and a mild concussion. As you can see, he insists that he wants to go home, but-”

“I have to _win_.” Harvey interfered, as if he was talking to an idiot.

Mike grinned. Now that he knew that Harvey was – mostly – fine, it was easy to laugh internally at the idea of seeing Harvey under the influence of drugs.

“Sure you do.” The doctor rolled her eyes. Harvey looked pretty offended at her lack of respect. “I am not going to discharge him like that if I don’t know that he’ll be properly taken care of.”

“I can stay with him.” Mike immediately assured. Maybe, the following day Harvey would be mad at him for overstepping boundaries or something, but he should have thought about it before appearing on his doorstep like that.

“Do you know how to treat head injuries?”

“I can let him sleep but I have to wake him up once in two hours to check that he hasn’t slipped into a coma and that he still knows who and where he is.” Mike replied, readily.

The doctor nodded. “He seems fine, but make sure to keep an eye out for any sudden headaches, nausea or vomiting, fainting, difficulties speaking, swallowing, writing or reading, hand tremors, loss of balance and, of course, seizures. If any of these symptoms show, bring him back here immediately. It may be a false alarm, but it’s way better than ignoring a possible brain haemorrhage.”

“Alright.” Mike swallowed. All that talk about all the things that could go wrong surely wasn’t calming him down and he was almost tempted to beg the doctor to keep Harvey in, just in case, for his peace of mind, but he ruled against it because he knew that Harvey would have skinned him alive the following morning.

“Don’t worry, he seems fine.” The doctor smiled reassuringly. “It’s just my job to tell you to take precautions.”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand. Thanks, doctor.” Mike smiled back.

When, after filing out a release form, he approached Harvey with the intention of helping him stand up and get to a cab, Harvey clumsily brushed his hand off. “Can do it by myself.” He muttered, but as soon as he was on his feet he seemed to be about to fall down and Mike had to quickly wrap his arm around Harvey’s hips, trying to keep him upright. God, he was fucking _heavy_.

“Mike.” Harvey called, as they started moving towards the door. Mike had to count each step, trying to not trip on his own feet.

“Yeah?”

“What time is it again?” Harvey asked. He was still slurring, but Mike could recognize his serious-business-tone anyway.

“I don’t know. Three am?” Mike guessed.

“What are you doing?” Harvey asked, his eyes wide open in disbelief. “It’s _late_. Court tomorrow. Should be sleeping. Rookie.”

Before Mike had a chance to answer, thankfully a nurse offered him a wheelchair to get Harvey to the parking lot. Thank God, because it was difficult to stand up right, let alone walk, with Harvey leaning like that on him and not really trying to keep his weight on his own feet. Carrying him down the stairs when they had gone to the hospital had been tiring, but Harvey had tried to do as much as he could by himself, relying on Mike just how little it was necessary to not fall down.

Now, Harvey was little more than dead-weight. Worse, because he was moving and talking.

As Harvey kept mumbling about Mike’s wrinkled suits and skinny ties casting a bad light on him, Mike made him sit down and he started pushing him down the corridors of the hospital. He quickly called a cab and he texted Donna that Harvey was fine and that they were heading out of the hospital.

When it was time to get him into the cab, Mike decided that they were going at Harvey’s, because at least in there there was a fucking _elevator_. Thankfully he had a spar key.

 

 

Mike knew perfectly well that he should have slept, but the whole thing had left him more awake than ever.

Even after successfully putting Harvey to bed – after his slurred lecture about Mike’s ‘unbelievably messy’ hair and a little monologue on how generally amazing he was in spite of appearances that Mike so wished he could have recorded -, Mike couldn’t bring himself to relax enough to get some sleep in between the checks he had to do on Harvey to make sure that he wouldn’t fall into a coma.

Hyperaware of his surroundings and of every little noise coming from the street, he just kept thinking about what had happened, about how worse it could have been, about how Harvey had carried himself up the stairs to his apartment on his own. He felt an irrational sense of guilt for not having been there, for not having helped more, and boiling fear at that bastard who had sent a couple of apes to do his dirty work.

He stayed awake, looking over documents for the case to make extra sure that they would _bury_ him, eating something occasionally and waking Harvey up for the few minutes necessary to ask him who he was and what day it was. The following morning, when Harvey woke up, they both looked terrible.  

Harvey had cuts on his face, a blatantly split lip and a massive black eye, not to mention the big-ass bruise on his cheekbone. He also was a little pale and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Nevertheless, the first thing he commented on was _Mike’s_ face.

“You look horrible.” He said.

“I am pretty sure you look _worse_.” Mike pointed out. He was aware that he probably had ridiculous eye bags, but Harvey looked really miserable. “How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened last night?”

“I feel like a wreck, but I remember. Vaguely.” Harvey replied, dropping on the couch with a sigh as Mike handed him the cup of coffee he had just prepared for himself. He looked like he needed it more.

Harvey accepted it. The clean t-shirt Mike had managed to put on him, in spite of the cast on his arm and alongside a pair of sweatpants, showed the marks on his ‘healthy’ arm.

“What time is it?” Harvey asked.

“Almost noon.” Mike replied, casually, expecting Harvey to start a shit-storm.

“ _What?!”_ He screamed, predictably. “Court was at _nine_ , why the hell didn’t you wake me up?!”

“Because you look like you have just been run over by a camion?” Mike offered, receiving a deadly glare in response. It wasn’t too effective considering the state of his face. “Don’t worry-”

“Great, now I am _extremely_ worried.” Harvey interrupted him, because he liked being a dick.

Mike rolled his eyes, but otherwise he ignored him. “-I called Jessica and she and Louis handled the case with the information that we found – well, plus what _I_ found tonight. Good stuff. You’re welcome. She came here to collect it and prepare for court and she said that we can both have the day off.”

“Which means, that the bastard got what he wanted and he got me off this case.” Harvey grunted. Mike knew that he wouldn’t be pleased, but they both were aware that Harvey wasn’t fit for court right now. If Mike had woken him up in time to make himself _kinda_ presentable, Harvey probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the case properly anyway. Just like Mike would have probably fallen down and faceplanted on the floor of the courtroom, considering that he had got about half an hour of sleep that night, summing all the times when he had dozen off on the couch only to wake up in a startle. What a pair.

“Well, he wanted you off the case so that we wouldn’t win, but Jessica and Louis did fine.” Mike pointed out.

“They kicked his ass?”

“Yep.”

Harvey nodded. He looked torn between being pleased and annoyed.

“Louis is never gonna let me hear the end of it.”

“You can argue that Jessica was first-chair, of course they won.” Mike suggested, which got a smirk out of Harvey – smirk that resulted in a pained grimace. God, things could have been _so much worse_.

“So you called Jessica, mmh?” Harvey asked, looking extremely amused at the thought of Mike talking with her on the phone. Which was pretty understandable, considering that that woman not only commanded respect but also pretty much _terrified_ him. She looked like the kind of woman that would literally kill him if he ever screwed up badly enough, let alone if she ever found out their secret.

“Yeah…” Mike mumbled.

Harvey didn’t add anything, he just kept looking at him with amused mockery on his face. Bastard.

Mike was so glad that he was okay.

 

 

 


End file.
